Gently Smiling Jaws
by Silver HeartCrosser
Summary: Pepper, a candy NPC wakes up to find herself in front of the famous yet dangerous glitched candy cane forest now known as Error Forest. Inhabited by the Ex-King Candy Cybug who dawns the name Lord Candycane or Lurker. You might have heard of him, hopefully not. Unfortunately, the poor sprite learns why she's there, in the first place... A short tale by I Lurku aka Lord Candycane


**.:The:.** tiny program opened it's eyes, its beady little black eyes that darted fearfully this way, and that, confused as to how it found itself in front of the ghastly candy forest before it. The last thing the little Winter pop NPC remembered was snuggling peacefully under the mounds of candy wrapper blankets mended from dum-dum pops, locked away safe and sound within its little gingerbread house.

That is, until someone started singing, quite loudly at that.

As audible as the vocals were, they were not of a disturbing and destructive noise that would irritate one, but a silken and pleasant sound that was easy on the ears. Like someone was harmonizing, a deep baritone male voice lingering in the air, a tantalizing sound that was hard to resist. It was warm, it was comforting and it was _reassuring_…There were no words to this tune, just an angelic voice.

The little NPC, whose name was commonly** 'Pepper'** would find that she was not alone, as it seemed that a whole audience of assorted candies had come to enjoy the wonderful singing.

_But Pepper noticed something was wrong._

Fearfully she looked around, scampering up to another winter pop to ask what the _hack_ was going on here. However, she couldn't even utter the question, as the look on the other NPC's face was dead, zombified. It's little eyes illuminated with a strange cyan color, it's mouth hanging open. Pepper squeaked and backed up, this was all so strange, she turned, forgetting about that unresponsive sprite and scampered up to another NPC who was a Jolly Rancher head. Unfortunately, that sprite had the same dead look as the last, and the next one after that and the next. Poor little Pepper was beginning to panic as she was suddenly shoved forwards into the dark forbidding thicket ahead, knowing all too well what was in there. Everyone in** 'this'** cabinet knew what was in _Error Forest,_ and also knew to _stay away_.

With that knowledge however Pepper was quite confused as to why all the little candy sprites in the game nearly were coming here, but as she was forced by the hoard of tiny programs walking aimlessly into the glitchy woods she was caring less about everyone's else's well being. She wanted to leave, desperately, and there was no way out not with a wall of NPC's forcing her to walk forward towards a large, vacant glen near a cake cliff side.

As they all entered with Pepper reluctantly in tow, the siren's song became louder. Pepper quivered and quaked, an almost desperate need to escape written clearly on her petrified face. She looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice, but it was everywhere, all around them.

Then it came to a close, and then silence.

Pepper, scared out of her wits did not notice this until she became aware of her own trembling resonating about, the crunching of her wrapper dress was the loudest sound heard, and all eyes seem to be plastered up towards the sky. Pepper looked up as well, and saw nothing but that strange crimson binary snow, and the blood red sky above, there was nothing there. What was everyone gawking at?

The little Winter pop would never find out as she was quickly apprehended, forthwith, and dragged towards the cliff side, front and center for all to see by two peanut butter cup sprites that shared the same hallow look as everyone else. Pepper squeaked and kicked and flailed, trying to resist and get through to the two NPCs in an unknown language only known to that of Sugar Rushians and the NPCs themselves, a series of squeaks and mutterings. Alas, it was futile, she was slammed against the damp and cold devil's food cake wall and pinned down. Poor Pepper had lost it then, and began screaming her little lungs out.

Until something wet and sticky splotched on the side of her face.

She stopped screaming, wondering if it had starting raining, but no, it was clear as day, not a single drop of sprite rain fell. Another sticky (purple she noticed) droplet fell on her pretty **black** hair bowtie, and the little sprite's breath hitched in horror. She slowly turned her head up, her glossed eyes that threatened tears meeting with _his_…

The utterly massive creature that gazed down at little Pepper suddenly grinned crookedly, blinking its glowing cyan optics one at a time and tilting it's head, furrowing its brows almost sympathetically, _almost_. He was clung to the side of the cliff easily with his tarsi and razor sharp claws, driveling from the mouth. Pepper tried to scream again, but it only turned into hyperventilation, her character going into a fritz and glitching from panic.

She wanted to leave, _**now**_.

The NPC fought her two captors with all her strength, slamming her head hard against the cliff's wall and managing to crack the back of her peppermint shaped head, painfully. That was enough to make her stop moving, the peanut butter cups seemed like statues, unmoving and unfazed.

She was in a world of pain, tears streaming down her minty cheeks.

Peppers tear soaked eyes drew up to meet with the monster's again, whom smiled warmly in response and brought a finger up to his lips, signifying _silence_.

_"Shhhhh…"_

That was the last thing the NPC heard or saw, a kind yet lurid smiling face filled with jagged teeth, then a sudden snarl came…

Then darkness fell.

—  
The following morning, the mist clung towards the ground, and the phlegmy _caw caw_ of a licorice crow was all that was heard in the forest. Lurker was nowhere to be found, most likely at his castle or hunkered somewhere else, sleeping off a recent meal, surrounded by candy wrappers.

He made sure to keep a pretty little** black **hair bowtie that he _found_ for his dear daughter Ace.


End file.
